


Numb Again

by wednesdays__child



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Death, Drug Use, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: Following Foyet's attack, the team has to leave right in the middle of the funeral. Spencer is torn between his duty to the team and job and being there to support his lover. As he returns home after the case, he's worried about what he will find.





	Numb Again

**Author's Note:**

> Karl has been in a mood ever since I wrote the ending for The Professional. This was one idea he wouldn't let go of. 
> 
> Unbetaed - sorry. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Set during "The Slave of Duty" - Season 5 Episode 10.

*************

_I lived my grief; I slept mourning and ate sorrow and drank tears. I ignored all else. ~ Robin Hobb_

Spencer stared down at his phone, willing it's blank, black screen to light up, to tell him that Aaron was okay. He hated the fact that they had been called away right in the middle of the reception of the funeral. How could they have just got up and left - how could _he_? The look on his lover's face had been one of anguish, disappointment and pain. Aaron knew they had to go, had told them to, had told Spencer to. His words may have said go but his face, his eyes, his entire being had all but begged Spencer to stay. 

Spencer had spent most the flight trying to get in touch with Aaron, to let him know they were coming home, that he was coming home to him, but all he'd received was radio silence. 

Guilt and worry gnawed at his insides like as rabid monster trying to claw it's way out of his belly. He'd left Aaron when he needed him most and left him in the arms of his first love.

Spencer thought back to the funeral. He couldn't believe it was just a few short days ago. The casket had been small - so tiny that it only needed four people to carry it graveside. It was white, so bright white that it hurt Spencer's eyes to look at it. Haley had insisted on it. She wanted something that was light and pure, just like the little boy that George Foyet had taken from them.

He'd tried not to be jealous as he watched them standing side by side, hand in hand, mourning the loss of the child they brought into this world together. He'd wanted to be the one at Aaron's side, comforting him, holding him, wiping away his tears, but he knew that was Haley's role in this situation. The only ones that knew Aaron and Spencer were in a relationship was their team, neither Haley nor Strauss even knew they were together. It's had started right after the disaster with Chester Hardwick. At first it was just sex - a release for both of them, emotionally and physically. But the more time they spent together, they closer they became. Attraction became affection which turned to love. Right after Aaron had been attacked by The Reaper, Spencer had insisted on moving in, refusing to hide or back off even when Aaron had tried so hard to push him away.

Spencer had been forced to watch as Rossi made his way over to Aaron and Haley to tell them they were being called away. He had ached to go over and pulled his lover into his arms and kiss him and tell him he would be back as soon as he could, but Spencer would never out them like that, not in front of the entire Brooks clan and the rest of the Bureau. So he'd been forced to give a wave and try for a reassuring smile as he was forced to turn away. 

Of course, he'd been unable to miss them standing so close on that lovely balcony, with Aaron's strong hand planted firmly on Haley's lower back - the same spot that his hand rested on Spencer when no one was looking.

Now Spencer was sitting in the darkened cabin of the jet watching his blank phone, staring at ten unanswered text messages. The last he had heard from Hotch had been when they had talked over twenty four hours before. He knew he shouldn't be worried - he trusted Aaron - he really did, but he knew that he and Haley had been at their old home, sorting through Jack's things as they packed up the house for sale. 

His brain was on overdrive as he tried to fight the visions and scenarios that had been tormenting him for the entire flight. Images of Aaron and Haley together, sharing the passion and love they had once had together. He tried to push them away, knowing that Aaron loved him and would never cheat on him, but still they came.

The jet landed and Spencer itched to disembark, to run to his vehicle and rush to the apartment he was sharing with the older profiler. He turned to see everyone watching him as soon as they were fully stopped and docked. 

"What?" he asked.

"Go home," Derek said, his face sad and his words soft.

"But I have reports to write and..."

"Go," Rossi interrupted. "Aaron needs you."

Spencer had never been more happy to be a part of his team than he was at that moment. 

"Thanks guys," he muttered before he nearly flew off the plane.

He quickly made his way across town before stopping in front of the apartment complex he shared with his love. He sat in his parking spot, engine off, suddenly frightened to go inside. He didn't know if he was ready to see what he would find inside or what he would do if Aaron wasn't here. Would he still be with her? Would he lose Aaron back to her? 

Aaron had been honest with Spencer, telling him that Haley had been his first love and would always hold a place in his heart, but he had assured Spencer that the young genius was his future and Haley was his past. But Spencer knew that people did strange things when they grieved, especially after the loss of a child. Some couples would grow apart - others bonded over their shared grief. 

He sat in his car, silently pleading to not have his worst nightmare revealed. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore so he unfastened his seatbelt and made his way inside. 

The apartment was quiet, silent as a tomb, and Spencer nearly called out until he noticed the mess surrounding him. Books were pulled off the bookshelves, open and spilling out there secrets, cushions and pillows were thrown off the couch and scattered across the room. Immediately on edge, Spencer pulled his sidearm and began to circle around the apartment, checking every corner and clearing the front rooms. It wasn't until he got to the kitchen that he made a startling discovery. Everything that was open and turned out belonged to him. It was just his cereal boxes opened and overturned. Just his books strewn across the floor. 

Fear gripped his heart and his blood ran cold. This was not good. This was worse than he could have imagined.

He ran to the closet that Aaron had gifted him when he moved in. It was small and unobtrusive - just a place to put the things he didn't want just lying around. Aaron understood that Spencer needed a place to keep his own things, a place that was his alone. The door was cracked slightly and he opened it slowly, afraid of what he would find inside. 

The shoebox was on the floor of the closet, the lid askew. Inside was the pair of Christian Louboutin dress shoes that Aaron had bought him for his birthday. They were elegant and trendy and Spencer only wore them on momentous occasions. He picked up the left one, tipping it over slowly. It was empty. 

Spencer nearly vomited.

A low moan echoed down the hallway, quiet and wanton and obviously coming from the bedroom. Spencer turned his head, following the sound. Suddenly he wished Aaron was in there fucking his ex-wife. It was so much better than the alternative. 

He crept down the hallway, keeping his footfalls near silent and his revolver prepared at his side. The bedroom door was closed halfway and he pushed it open with his foot, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light within. He saw Aaron laying on the bed alone wearing only his boxers, his left hand down the front, lightly and softly stroking what appeared to be a mostly hard erection. The thing that made Spencer's blood run cold was the belt still wrapped around his right bicep, slack now and hanging loose around his arm. The trickle of blood trailing down from elbow to fingertips told Spencer that Aaron wasn't very good at this yet, not like Spencer had been. He had hardly ever left a bruise or a mark. Aaron would have an impressive, and mostly likely pretty painful bruise in the divot of his right elbow.

And it would be all Spencer's fault.

Spencer quietly made his way over to the gun safe, making sure to keep his steps soft and silent. He entered the code and placed his firearm inside before re-locking the safe. He toed off his shoes, followed by his socks before stripping down until he matched his lover's current dress code. He walked over to the bed and noted the used syringes, there appeared to only be two, laying forgotten on the floor by the side of the bed. The bottle of Dilaudid sat on the nightstand, screaming at him - both in temptation and recrimination. He carefully slipped the belt out from under Aaron's arm, frowning at the damage the older man had caused to himself and that was when he saw Aaron stir.

Reaching up with his right hand, Aaron caught Spencer's wrist. 

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, his voice so wrong and distorted by the drugs. "When did you get home?"

"Just now," Spencer replied, his eyes sad and his voice trembling. 

"Why didn't you let me know?"

"I did. I've been sending you texts since yesterday."

"Oops."

Spencer shook his head. This wasn't Hotch. This wasn't his love. This was wrong - all so wrong and it was all his fault.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron."

"Sorry for what?" the older profiler asked before he yanked on Spencer's arm, causing the shocked man to fall on top of him. "I've got something for you."

Aaron arched up and pressed his half-hard dick against his hip. Spencer remembered so vividly that desire, that ache that filled him with he was high. He wasn't going to fall into that now. 

"Aaron, we aren't go to do this right now."

Aaron snorted - actually snorted and started laughing. "Come on, Spencer. Speeen-siiiir."

That was enough. He couldn't take anymore. He sat up and straddled the older man's chest and pressed down on his shoulders to immobilize him. 

"Okay, Aaron, I'll make you a deal. Let's take a nap. I'm really tired after this case. After we wake up, we can do anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Aaron was asleep before Spencer could even climb off of him. 

The first thing Spencer did was pick up the syringes off the floor and carried the small bottle into the ensuite bathroom. Then he wet several towels before heading back into the bedroom. Tenderly, he began to clean the blood that had dried on his lover's arm. He continued to clean up the older man, wiping down where his skin had sweat profusely and released the alcohol he had obviously consumed. He bandaged the arm with gauze and tape before heading back to the bathroom for the worst part. 

Spencer stood at the sink, staring down at the small vial and syringes. He'd kept a stash just in case. Of course he did. All junkies did - former or present, it didn't matter. Aaron knew that. Spencer had told him as much even if he didn't give any indicator where they might be. Regardless, Aaron had found them anyway. As he stared at the tempting clear bottle, Spencer felt that old ache, that need rise up within him, the crook of his elbow itching with that need. He wanted that oblivion for himself, to join Aaron and float and forget. It would be so easy to do. Aaron would probably love him for it. 

But only for a little while. It would have been bliss to float, to fly, to forget but it never lasted and the crash and burn that followed was worse than any pain that was before it. No. It didn't matter how badly he wanted it, he wouldn't give in to this temptation. He needed to do this for Aaron. 

He wandered back into the bedroom and stared down at his lover on the bed. Aaron trembled and shivered in his sleep, soft sounds passed his lips, gasps and whimpers and Spencer wondered what he was dreaming. Was he reliving the death of his son? Was he thinking of her? What did Aaron Hotchner's drugged psyche bring forth?

Exhaustion gripped him suddenly so Spencer crawled into the bed, curling up behind his love and holding him tight, hoping that he could keep the nightmares and bay. His last thought was a worry over what daybreak would bring.

*************

The trembling body in his arms woke him before his alarm had even had a chance to chime. Spencer tightened his arms, clutching the strong body to his chest, trying to stave off the awful morning he knew was coming. 

Aaron groaned and whimpered for several moments before he began to shift and move in Spencer's grip. Spencer knew the moment Aaron woke, relaxing back against his chest, allowing the younger man to cradle him close.

"Hey," Aaron greeted, his voice rough with sleep.

"Hey."

"When did you get in?" 

"Last night," Spencer whispered, his lips barely brushing the shell of Aaron's ear. "Don't you remember? We talked."

Aaron snorted lightly. "No, actually I don't. I must have been out of it."

Spencer nodded, not knowing what else to say. 

The shaking increased then and Spencer wondered how long it would take before the rest of the symptoms would kick in.

"How much did you take?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Aaron remained silent for a long time. So long that Spencer began to worry that he had fallen back to sleep. Finally Aaron whispered, "Two. Two doses"

"Why, Aaron? Why would you do that?"

"Why?!" he asked, his voice rising as he turned but remained in the circle of Spencer's arms. "Why!? When you were using and I came over that one weekend to help you, what did you tell me when I asked you that question?"

Spencer thought back. He remembered that awful weekend only too well. It was a horrible time for him and Aaron had been nothing but supportive, even before they fell in love.

"I wanted to forget. I needed to feel numb and just forget everything even if it was just fo a little while."

"That's why, Spencer." He watched in horror as Aaron's eyes well up and tears began to spill over. "Every time I close my eyes, I see his tiny body lying on the floor of bedroom in that huge pool of blood. It was so much blood, Spencer. How could all of that come out of such a little body? He killed him with the third stab wound, did you know that? Kids' bodies are different and he hit an artery by stabbing him too deep. But he kept stabbing him. Foyet insisted on giving Jack the same wound pattern he'd given me. That was all I could see. The wounds - these wounds."

Aaron's hands trailed down his chest, tracing his scars. Spencer shuddered knowing that every time the older profiler saw those scars, he'd be reminded of his son's death. 

"Aaron, I know this is awful but this isn't..."

"Don't Spencer!" Aaron snapped, his eyes flashing bright with anger. "Don't tell this isn't the way! I can't do this. It hurts. It hurts so much. And you left. You all left and I was all alone. Do you know what that felt like? It was the one time I needed you - all of you - and you got up and walked away. You know what Haley said? "Doesn't feel so good, does it?" She was right. It didn't feel so good. I couldn't apologize enough for all the times she needed me and I just walked away. We just walk away."

A muffled sob broke from his lips and he pressed in close, hiding in the protective alcove of Spencer's shoulder and neck. 

"We went to the house and tried to clean up, pack things up so we can sell the place. They'd cleaned up the blood but it was still there, still soaked in and mocking me, reminding me that I couldn't protect him, couldn't save him."

"Aaron, you couldn't..."

"Don't tell I couldn't save or protect him or whatever it was you were going to say, especially if you were going to tell me I couldn't stop Foyet. I should have. I should have known he would do something like this. I should have..."

The sobs racked his body and Spencer held him until they slowed and then finally stopped. 

"She kissed me."

"What?" Spencer asked, hoping that he heard Aaron wrong.

"Haley. She kissed me. I kissed her. We were on the floor in Jack's room and we were remembering him, telling stories, you know. It was so much like before back when we were still in love. One minute she was crying on my shoulder and then the next she was in my lap with her hand down my pants. It was just like I remember. She was soft and made these cute little noises when I bit her on her neck. But then she said my name and it was wrong. It wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want her calling my name. I wanted you. I needed you and you weren't here. I just jumped up and left her there just sprawled out on the bedroom floor of our dead son with her shirt open and a hickey forming on her neck. I ran, Spencer. I ran all the way here."

Spencer closed his eyes and clutched the older man close to his chest. He knew this was a possibility, that he would fall back into Haley's arms. But he'd left. He'd left her there for Spencer.

"I got back here and it was so quiet. It was quiet and empty and I didn't have anything to keep the thoughts away because you weren't here. I started drinking, it seemed reasonable at the time but it didn't stop the thoughts. They just kept coming over and over and I kept drinking and drinking and more I drank the worse it got. Then I remembered. You said you felt numb. I needed numb. All I feel all the time is sadness and hate and I can't let it go. It was eating me up and I needed to be numb even if it was for a little while."

"But that's not the way, Aaron," Spencer whispered. "I should know."

"I don't want to sound mean, Spencer, but you don't know shit."

He tried not to take offence but it still hurt to hear. 

"I know it's not worth what you have go through after. Remember how I was, you don't want that."

"You don't know what I want!" Aaron shouted as he shot up from the bed. As soon he stood, he doubled over, a wave of nausea nearly bringing him to his knees. Spencer quickly gripped his lover around his waist, pulling him back down to the bed, nearly in his lap. He reached over and grabbed the small trash can he had placed close by just for this purpose. Once Aaron had rid his stomach of its contents, Spencer tried to pull him back down onto the bed but Aaron resisted. "Where is it?"

Spencer knew what Aaron wanted but he wasn't going to make it that easy. "Where is what?"

"You know what!" Aaron snapped. "I need more."

"There is no more."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. That was all I had and I dumped it out. And I won't get us more. I want to sink into that oblivion with you, Aaron. It's something I think about more than I'd like to admit, but I can't and you can't either."

"I can't do this. Spencer," Aaron complained, fighting to get out of his lover's hold. "I'm not strong like you. I can't take this pain. I can't..."

They fell down onto the bed again, Aaron curling up in on himself and Spencer clinging to him, trying to keep him together. The trembling started up again and Spencer trailed his hands over the clammy, sticky skin.

"How much did you take?" Spencer asked again.

"Two," Aaron answered again.

Spencer sighed, knowing how many times he had lied when he was using. So many lies.

"Please, Aaron," he begged, his voice colored with desperation. "Please don't lie to me - not about this."

Aaron sighed, laughed and then gagged lightly, hiding how awful he felt. "Five," he finally answered, his voice still so quiet in the nearly empty room. 

Five. Five doses administer by a man who couldn't know how much or how to inject himself in just over twenty four hours. No wonder he was so sick.

"Oh Aaron," he whispered, pressing soft kisses to the back of Aaron's cool, slick neck. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't," Aaron begged, his voice raw and rough. "Please don't."

"It's okay, Love," Spencer whispered, holding him closer, pulling the covers up over them both, hoping to keep the trembling at bay. "i shouldn't have left you alone. I shouldn't have had that here, but it's gone now and I'm here. You're not alone, Aaron. I'll help you through this. We'll through this together."

He kept up that mantra, repeating the words Aaron had said to him so long ago when their roles were reversed. He knew he couldn't heal this man, maybe nothing ever would, but he could be here to help him survive and move on. 

And maybe eventually they both could - move on - and come out stronger on the other side.

**~~THE END~~**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.


End file.
